hopefully bored

Through the window Mary Ann saw her two children safe on the bus - she finished the dishes and wiped down the breakfast table.




Drying her hands she decided against phoning Michael - his measured conversation at work was never much fun. Or interesting.



With this thought the telephone rang.



“Hellow?” She used a horrible imitation of an English accent for unknown callers.



“Mrs. Smith? Great news here!”



Mary Ann was not Mrs. Smith. She thought about life as a traditional yet so anonymous ‘Mrs. Smith’.



“News?”



“The vacation. You’re a winner!”



Vacation images flashed in her mind. Beaches, there were always beaches, but also dimly lit Spanish bars with individual wafts of smoke entwining towards the ceiling.



“Where- Sorry, what’s your name?”



“Roy - name’s Roy. Forgot to mention it”



“Roy, Where am I going?”



“Why beautiful Denver, of course! Perfect slopes this season!”



“Well, Roy, Thanks. Thanks a lot. But I’m afraid I’m not Mrs. Smith.”



There was a pause. “Sorry ma’am, looks like someone put your number down on their card. Smells like fate to me. Of course, I just need a few details to transfer it over.”



“Thanks, Roy.” Her eyes blank - Mary Ann replaced the receiver.



She vacuumed the bedrooms first. Then back downstairs to the dining room. In the hum she heard the hint of a melody. She replaced the vacuum in the closet and walked to the piano. She played a key, and then another. Without any order, a melody started to emerge